An Honourable Death
by ScottishTimeLady
Summary: "She was never going to die an honourable death. It just wasn't her. " Mary MacDonald, a muggle-born witch during the First Wizarding War, knows that she will never be like her housemates. As she grows up and gets married, she sees the world change around her, but can't help feeling that she'll be that terrified little girl forever.


She was never going to die an honourable death.

It just wasn't her.

She remembered having a conversation in the Gryffindor common room with the other sixth years about the matter. It had started off with a drinking game, passing around a bottle of firewhiskey asking each other random questions, laughing at the answers and having a good Saturday night, as the rest of the school slept blissfully on. The Marauders had joined them; it was one of those weeks that Lily and James hadn't argued and they were all relaxed.

"Okay... number of folk you've snogged that are _younger_ than you!" Sirius proclaimed loudly while the rest groaned. Sirius had _only_ asked questions about that the entire night.

But the bottle went around and they answered, the amber liquid sloshing around and occasionally spilling on the carpet. The conversation turned to Voldemort and his Death Eaters, whether there was really anything to worry about. Of course, the war was brewing in the background, they all knew it, but whether it was something they should be terrified about or not was still undetermined.

"I'm nah worried, s'long as ol' Dumby's roun', we'll all be fiiine!" James grinned, having drunk twice as much as the rest of them, but appearing sheepishly pleased as Lily agreed with him and clutched his arm, giggling at something the rest of them didn't get, but laughed along with anyway.

"I'm not so much worried about fighting them," Marlene said thoughtfully, the bottle being held in her reasonably stable hands. "I'm worried about dying."

"I'm sure its not that bad," Alice shrugged. "Just go ask Nick sometime about it."

"No, no, I mean... dying the _right_ way!" Marlene shook her head. "Doing something heroic, and being myself, I don't want to die doing something cowardly... or live actually. If I have to be a coward and live, I'd rather die, but die being something great. I want to die fighting, not cowering in front of them."

She took a deep drink then, everyone feeling a little more sobered up as they agreed with her. Of course, dying wasn't their preferred choice, but to do it fighting, with honour, would be much greater than dying on their knees, or living with the guilt of being a coward. They all nodded and took another drink. Mary hesitated, feeling a little put out by all of this. After all, she wasn't exactly one who wanted to really fight.

People would ridicule her for not having the Gryffindor spirit, when in all honesty she had it. Of course she did, she was just as brave as the rest of them and cared just as much, otherwise the Sorting Hat would never have placed her in Gryffindor, but she remembered her third year. And Mulciber's attack. It had shaken her, and she couldn't face anything like that again.

So when the war started, and it raged on. Everyone there that night signed up to the Order, to fight against the evil, to risk dying for the greater good rather than live as cowards. But Mary didn't. All that had happened, being a muggle-born and worn down had taken its toll. She had become meek, and rather easy to taunt or attack. By the end of her Hogwarts career she'd been viciously assaulted by Slytherins twelve times. None of the rest of them blamed her for not signing up, but she could see the disappointment in their eyes, and they grew distant. They would still sometimes chat if they met in Diagon Alley, but as she bustled away from them, her gaze fixed on the ground as she hurried back to safety of her home she sometimes caught a whisper of Alice to Marlene, "I always thought she'd turn out to have more fight, in the end."

The disappointment in her was humiliating, so she avoided contact with people entirely. The rest of them ended up being heroes or getting honourable deaths as they'd wished.

Marlene died fighting a hero alongside her brother. Mary heard that when they were cornered and her wand was blasted from her hand, the last thing she did was spit in her pursuer's face.

Lily and James had died protecting their only son from You-Know-Who himself, fighting victoriously to the end, and managed to succeed. Their son, Harry Potter, lived.

Alice and Frank didn't die. They were tortured into insanity by a few remaining Death Eaters, never once giving in to them, never once uttering a single word on any secrets that would give away the whereabouts of Harry Potter, the one who had vanquished the Dark Lord.

Sirius, however, at the end of the First Wizarding War, seemed to have been lying all along. He'd been deemed a traitor and thrown into Azkaban. But in 1996, Mary's eyes filled with tears as she read the article in the Prophet about him, how he'd been framed, survived Azkaban to escape and protect Harry Potter, being seen as an enemy, he eventually fought and died protecting his Godson. Mary was devastated, this was the real Sirius, she had never truly believed him to be evil.

Peter was seen as a hero, hunting down someone who he thought was a traitor and fighting, maybe in madness, his ex best friend. Mary never learned that it was actually Peter who'd betrayed Sirius, it never said in the article, she always thought it was another Death Eater who'd framed Sirius.

Remus had survived the war, the only one save for Mary who had, without being thrown into Azkaban or turned insane. However, _he_ had fought all along, he was seen by the order as a hero, although he was too modest to ever believe it himself. He instead decided to disappear into the background, never taking the honour himself, all though she'd heard far too many stories of his battles that he should have taken pride in.

Mary didn't fight. She'd hidden away, living with a few of her Hufflepuff friends and earning money occasionally by brewing simple potions for the shop downstairs, or doing the shop's accounts – her parents had been green grocers, so she understood how a business was run. At the end of the war she felt relieved and went outside properly for the first time, overjoyed at the new lease of life. That was, until, she read the newspaper and discovered all of her old Gryffindor friends were dead. Feeling guilty she retreated again, but less so, and eventually got a job in a shop, working as a sale's assistant, as well as working in the back. Just living a simple life with no complications, never drawing attention to herself.

That was, until, Reginald Cattermole wandered into the shop one day. She shyly helped him find the ingredients and potions that he wanted before going to help another customer, who she was more familiar and confident with. The next week he came in again, and stammered about another potion that his sister wanted him to get. The next week Mary felt on some level she knew him, and managed to make a mild joke to him. In the next two months it seemed as though he'd bought samples of the entire stock and Mary was eventually prodded by the witch who worked with her into the idea that he was there to see _her_. Mortified at the thought, she denied it completely, who would ever pay attention to a meek, cowardly thing like herself?

That Friday, Reginald asked her out on a date.

Mary accepted.

By the time the second war had started Mary was married with very young children. It was, in fact, her youngest's first birthday when the doorbell rung. It was nine o'clock and all the children had been ushered into bed, when Mary went to answer the door. On the door step she found Remus Lupin, smiling politely at her. After inviting him inside and making him a cup of tea he revealed the real reason that he was there.

"Dumbledore is looking for people to join the Order," Remus said finally.

"Oh," Mary looked down at her lap.

"I was just wondering... if you'd be interested," he asked softly.

Mary paused before shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't."

Remus didn't answer. She, again, felt a wave of guilt flow over her.

"That's fine... I just thought... I thought I should let you know," he said.

"It's not that I don't want to," Mary burst out of all a sudden. "It's just..."

Her voice trailed off and Remus looked at her curiously. It must have been second year since he'd heard her speak so loudly and suddenly.

"Mummy?"

Mary looked around to see Ellie standing in her nightdress in the doorway.

"Yes dear?" she moved quickly to the three year old and scooped her up, seeing Remus' eyes grow wide.

"Daddy's story scared me," Ellie whispered.

"Oh, honey," Mary gave her a quick hug before carrying her out into the hall and back up the stairs into her bed, prompting Reg into talking to her before hurrying back down to her guest in the front room.

Remus was sitting there stock still. When Mary re-entered he looked up mortified.

"Mary, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you had kids, if I'd known I'd have never come by, it was too much to ask of-"

"No, it's fine," Mary shook her head.

"I understand now, why you can't, I'm very sorry for stopping by."

Mary looked at him. He thought the reason she couldn't fight was because she had young children. The real reason was still the reason as before. She was just scared. But she couldn't say that.

"I'm sorry," she said instead.

"No, my fault. I knew you'd gotten married, I just didn't realise you'd had kids," Remus smile was strained. "Just the one?"

"Three," she answered.

"Three, wow!"

There was a pause.

"Would it be okay if you kept quiet about the recruiting?" Remus asked her.

Mary smiled at him. "Remus, you know I'm hardly one to gossip."

"Thank you," he looked relieved.

Mary felt a bit sorry for him. He'd been through a lot. She wished she could join, or there could be some way to help him. They were the only real survivors of the war... and yet, they'd still lost in so many ways. And now there was this. It didn't seem likely that they'd survive this again.

"Did you ever get married?" Mary asked suddenly, and Remus looked surprised again at her.

"Me?" he laughed nervously. "No, there's no one for me out there."

"Oh," Mary took him in again. He was such a nice bloke, a bit older now, and worn down, but aside from his... _problem_, he was such a nice guy. "Don't be so quick to assume there's no one," Mary smiled at him. "You never know what's around the corner.

Remus laughed at that.

"Well, I'd best be off," he commented and Mary nodded and walked with him to the door.

He turned to look at her just before she left.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Mary was confused.

"For not... for not commenting on..." he gestured to the moon.

"That doesn't matter," Mary shrugged. It honestly didn't. Yes, werewolves were dangerous, and she'd been surprised to read in the prophet of how Remus Lupin was one, and Dumbledore had known and still employed him as DADA teacher at Hogwarts, but it didn't really bother her.

"It does to a lot of people."

"You're still Remus Lupin. Too much has happened in the past for that to really matter now."

He gave her a sad smile and left. And that was the last Mary ever saw of him.

She'd hoped that it wouldn't really come to anything much, and hoped that the recruiting was just a precaution... she really didn't want to think what would happen if it turned out You-Know-Who had actually returned. It was hard for her to know what to think: the Prophet insisted that the Ministry had reassured them all it was nothing... but Dumbledore was challenging that and... well, it was _Dumbledore_. Dumbledore had always been so strong, so right, but everything was being stripped from him, his place on the Wizengamot, his Order of Merlin... and he was getting older. He was incredibly old now, actually, but whether he would _lie_? Mary didn't know what to think.

Then the disappearances happened.

That was how it had all started before. The disappearances, the whispers, the attacks, the mysterious things happening in the muggle world. Even Mary's _parents_ had asked her if something was going on! There was no denying it. But no one wanted to believe it of course. So she carried on as normal, looking after her three children and spending cosy evenings with Reg, trying hard not to think of the outside world. But they couldn't really hide.

It was done quite subtly, everything seemed to change but be the same and was so alien but so familiar. The Ministry issued leaflets on protecting their home one minute, the next the anti-muggle-born propaganda was seeping through, making it all seem so _fair_. It was only Ministry research, wasn't it? They were investigating how magic was inherited, it's not a bad thing to do.

But everyone knew it wasn't just that.

Mary knew, she knew all too well that it had happened. The unmentionable had happened. And of course, it hadn't been mentioned. You-Know-Who had full control of the Ministry and now the cleansing had begun. Mary had to fight the instinct to just run, run away from everything and hide. But she _couldn't_! She had the Maisie and Ellie and Alfred and Reg to think about. Would her children be safe? Reginald refused to listen to her, he didn't realise what was going on, or at least, he didn't want to realise it. He worked at the Ministry and insisted things were basically the same, and as long as they went through the system then everything would be okay. Mary's trial drew nearer and with a heavy heart she left her children with a friend and went alone. Reg promised he'd be there for her, but he'd already left for work. She wished he would have come with her, but being a Ministry employee it would have been considered unprofessional. Besides, maybe it would be better if he didn't come along. He'd be safer then. So would the children.

As soon as she was there she knew that she wouldn't be going home that day. They took her wand as soon as she arrived and she was then lead down into a long dark corridor to await her trial. The cold of the dementors unfurled in her as she sat, more afraid than she'd ever been in her life. All the memories of her cowardice and guilt grew again inside her very heart. She was never truly a Gryffindor; she never deserved that title. She'd let them all down. How could she have been so stupid to come here, she'd never get through the system, her children would be without a mother, they'd be branded as being from bad stock. But Reg, Reg had insisted she would be okay and he wasn't even _here_. She'd let them all down. She hadn't even fought alongside Remus to stop any of this from happening. She was going to die a coward.

She was interrogated by some horrible woman in a pink suit. A smile which only etched into the apples of the woman's cheeks coupled with that wrinkle of the nose dragged Mary back into her school days and being tortured by the Slytherin girls. And she returned to the same snivelling state. She could hear her own voice, stammering and whimpering as she answered the questions. Squeaking.

And then Reg was there, and Mary didn't feel quite so bad. Of course, she felt embarrassed being such a mess, but being able to see him one last time caused her heart to thump gladly, in a similar way to when they first held hands. "He must really like me," she thought, before realising how foolish it sounded.

But then there was a flash, and a stunner, then a patronus. Then they were running and she was so confused; clinging onto the robes of her husband she begged him to tell her what was going on. And then Reg was in front of her and the man who she'd held onto was someone else. Someone told her what to do, she saw the opportunity and, grabbing her real husband's hand, she ran.

Whisking their children away from their friend's house there was little else for them to do but to continue running. They managed to get by okay, of course it was a struggle, what with three kids and few places to go, but they managed to keep low, staying in muggle holiday cottages for a week at a time.

However, running away is not always so easy.

And it was in late November that they had reached this point, running through some ambiguous woods. The cold air penetrating her lungs only made her run harder, throwing ever single hex she could think off behind her shoulder, while ushering her children forward. But Mary was never that great at that sort of magic. She could sense that they were gaining on them, and that the children would never manage to outrun them. Managing to cause a tree to collapse just behind them, giving them a little time, she summoned all her energy once more into a single spell, before grabbing Reg and telling him to take the kids. Reginald shook his head agape, but then saw one thing that he'd never seen in Mary before, flashing behind her eyes. Shocked he nodded and grabbed them, veering off to the left.

Mary continued running then, her wand just in front of her, concentrating on the four apparitions in front of her. Maisie, Ellie and Alfred stumbled along in front of her, while Reginald encouraged them, glancing worriedly behind him. She could hear them coming closer and closer, laughing and jeering at them. There was a single shout and Mary's wand flew out of her hand. The four figures in front of her disappeared.

She turned to see the shocked faces of her pursuers who were clearly disappointed in missing out much of their fun They saw her smile as she knew in that moment she'd given her family plenty of time to escape. Anger fixed on their faces when they saw they'd been evaded and they scowled at her.

"Big mistake, you little bitch... we'll just have to make an entire meal out of _you_ now..." one of them growled at her.

Mary didn't answer them but simply smiled in return. A Death Eater from the back moved forward to get a better look at her.

"Well, if it isn't little Mary MacDonald?"

"Evening, Mulciber, long time no see," she was almost surprised at how even her voice was.

Their cruel smiles stretched as they moved forward, wands raised.

And yet, Mary didn't shiver or quake in fear, nor did she shrink back or even bow her head.

There were many deaths that year, and Mary's was just one of them. There were few that noted her name as it was called out over Potterwatch, and even fewer during the memorials held after the war. She hadn't died in a particularly notable manner, she hadn't brought down countless Death Eaters, nor really had very much of an impact on the wider picture. But Mary had died in the place of her family and, despite the fact they weren't particularly important, to her, it was an honourable death. And her children would never forget, nor would they fail to speak of her with surging pride in their voices as they spoke of their mother, telling their children about the greatest witch they ever knew.

* * *

**A/N: **Phewie, this was written with a huge gap in the middle which is probably why the style changes so much half way through! Anyway, in my head Mary MacDonald has always been a bit different from this character here (if I ever get around the uploading _the Story of Mary MacDonald _you'll see what I mean) but after reading Jewels5's _The Life and Times _and the idea of Mary MacDonald becoming Mary Cattermole... well, I couldn't resist! So yes, a different Mary from the one I originally thought of (as well as not being based on Jewels5's either, merely in MacDonald/Cattermole being the same character), but I quite like her all the same.

Thanks for reading :)


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